Headless
by Sonanoka21093
Summary: Sekibanki has spent a long time among humans. Sometimes she just likes to get away from it all, and this is one of those times. Join Sekibanki as she meets with a famous dullahan.


Disclaimer: Touhou belongs to Zun, and the only things that belong to myself would be Usagi the mimic, and Moegi the japanese beetle. Everything else belongs to their rightful owner.

A/N: This... will be a second for me.

Y/N: What will be?

A/N: This chapter.

Y/N: Can this truly be considered a chapter?

A/N: Ehh? Well, I guess if you want to argue seman- Wait, doesn't that mean that you already knew?

Y/N: Knew what~?

A/N: You're just teasing me at this point, aren't you...?

Y/N: Teasing? I wouldn't dream of it!

A/N: Your words drip with copious amounts of sarcasm. Be sure to clean up after yourself.

Y/N: My, do you think me a child?

A/N: A particularly large one, yes.

Y/N: How rude! I am perfectly capable of cleaning up after my sarcasm, thank you very much.

A/N: If you insist.

Y/N: I do! I strongly insist that I am quite able at cleaning!

A/N: ...Have we gotten side-tracked, or is it just me?

Y/N: It's just you. In other news, I have successfully delivered a child.

A/N: Are you going senile? This is hardly recent news.

Y/N: No, not my child.

A/N: Ahh. Then I suppose I could see that as news.

Y/N: Of course, I wasn't involved.

A/N: Then don't make it out that you delivered a child! If you didn't, you didn't!

Y/N: I was just trying to liven things up...

A/N: Things are now sufficiently lively.

Y/N: Good!

A/N: Let's just get on with the show...

* * *

From a glance, it was obvious that something is wrong with me. My face is ghostly pale, while my body is lightly tanned from being out in the sun. You would think that my face would tan some by now, but no, I'm forever mismatched. Forever is my story apparent, even if few would put their foot on exactly what the problem is.

My face is not my own. And by that, I mean that the head that rests atop my body is not mine. You see, my head isn't attached. It is actually able to simply fall off if I'm not careful. Flying upside down is forever closed to me. Not that I would ever do such a thing; I wear a skirt, after all.

As I sat on the bolder on the edge of the human village, I heard someone walk up behind me, their boots heavily pounding into the earth. Choosing the easiest option, I held my head in place and laid down, craning my neck so that I could see whom it was that wanted to bother me. The sight the greeted me was a surprising one. So surprising, was it, that I let go of my head, which proceeded to roll off of my shoulders. The man in full plate as black as night was looking down upon me. It wasn't an evil-looking set of armor; it lacked any spikes or skull decorations to indicate such a thing. No, instead it was knightly armor, shining in the afternoon light. What caught my attention, however, was that he had a pumpkin on his shoulders.

Looking down at the head at his feet, I looked up at him from his feet. Before I could even formulate a response, I felt a pair of cool hand plated in blackened metal gauntlets on my cheeks as my head was lifted from the ground, and carefully dusted off. "It's not good to freak out like that! You might lose your head!"

I couldn't help but chuckle a bit at his morbid humor. He had a point; freaking out easily leads to losing your head, when it's not attached. Before I knew it, I felt my neck connect with the rest of my neck, and he added, "Now, be sure to hold it in place this time!" Taking his advice, I put pressure on the top of my head soon before he let go. Sitting up, I turned around to face him. "Who are you?"

Probably grinning under his gourd of a helmet, he replied in a voice surprisingly high for a man, "Jack's the name! Yours?"

I paused a moment to think on that. That name sounds familiar... After a moment's consideration I replied, "You can call me Sekibanki. Or Seki, for short."

Pausing himself, the man before me eventually asked, "But it's not your real name?"

Snorting, I replied, "No, it's not. I... can't remember my actual name."

Humming thoughtfully, the once lively man said, "All things rot away with time." Silence settled in after her spoke his mind, as it truly does. If not for extenuating circumstances, I would have forgotten even my sister's face. Already I have forgotten her name... Likely grinning cheerfully under his helmet of sorts, the man went on to ask, now cheerful once more, "So, what's a dullahan doing in a place like this?!"

Sighing, I said in response, "I don't know, you tell me. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Chuckling, Jack replied, "It is a fine existence, isn't it?"

What's with his bright and sunny attitude? Feeling the need to show my annoyance at this, I said, "You're kinda annoying..."

Ignoring that remark, he asked, "So, why do you have a head?"

I blinked in surprise, and answered with a question of my own, "Excuse me?"

Repeating himself a bit more clearly, he asked with the curiosity of a child, "Dullahans lack a head. It's kind of their thing, isn't it? What makes you so special?"

I opened my mouth and rose a finger, but soon closed it and let said finger droop. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to say it.

Probably grinning under that gourd of his, he asked, "Cat got your tongue?"

I couldn't help to burst out in another giggle at the unintentional joke, and decided it was fine to tell him. "It's not my head."

Laughing heartily, he asked, "Then whose is it?"

Once more I was unsure of what to say. Did I really wish to think about that...?

Less energetic than his usual outbursts, he calmly said, "If you don't want to say it, that's fine. I'm just a bit curious is all."

Shaking my neck, my head staying in place for the most part, I said, "No, it's fine." For a few seconds a deafening silence settled in. After that silence had settled in in full, I decided it time to up roost it, and I added, "Well... it's my sister's head. We were... both executed in the French revolution."

Perhaps raising a brow under his odd choice of headgear, the man asked, "Ohh? Is that all? I had expected a more gruesome tale. Why were _you _executed?"

What's with the odd emphasis? "I... I don't remember why. I just remember being beheaded using a guillotine. It was... a strange experience to wait. The wait was the worst part. Knowing that my life was moments from ending, but not know when the exact moment would be. I couldn't even see when it did fall. The anticipation of it all was the worst part. That dreaded moment when it finally did fall was more a relief than anything. It was finally over. Over, but still I was there. I was so confused that I was still alive, even with my life blood spraying from both sides of my neck. I played dead, and I didn't move, acting as a limp body as they carried me. I could no longer see. I had been blinded by the loss of my head! I couldn't speak... I couldn't say a word. I just played dead, knowing not what else I could do." By this point I was reliving that trauma in my head, and it was terrible. This was why I didn't want to talk about it. "Later, I was being buried with my head, and as I was a twin they tried to burry me with my sister's head! They had buried my sister first. When I felt that head came in contact with my neck, I found I could see again. I could speak!" At this revelation I began to smile. I had relived the moment when I had regained my senses. I had lost four of my senses for so long, and my sense of touch was hardly enough to sate my desires. "I rose from the unfilled grave, and I scared the pants off of the one who had to burry me. He ran, and I used that opportunity to flee town. I had to get away... It wasn't until later - much later - that I learned that my head was my sister's. You see, she has this little mole on the back of her neck. It was cut down the middle when the blade took her from me... But I was alive, and I wasn't about to take that for granted."

Feeling the need to be an arse, he corrected, "Undead."

Snorting, I said, "Whatever. Close enough. Better undead than dead."

Likely smiling under his helmet of sorts, the man with the pumpkin replied, "I wasn't so lucky to find a head. I ended up seeing through sheer determination, though."

I blinked. "Wait, what?" And then it hit me. Why his name sounded so familiar. "...You... you're Jack!"

_Obviously _not able to raise a brow he likely wanted to, the dullahan asked, "Didn't I already say that?"

Swallowing my surprise at just who I had been holding a conversation with, I said, "The... the Pumpkin King!"

Nodding his pumpkin head, he replied, "Of course!"

Trembling a bit in the presence of such a important man, I added, "Th-the headless horseman of Sleepy Hollow!"

Probably wanting to grin quite widely at that, he declared, "In the flesh!"

I suddenly slammed myself into his heavy self, knocking the wind out of myself alone. As I hugged him tightly, I cried, "I'm a big fan of yours!"

Chuckling, he replied, "Is that so? It's nice to know that I have fans!"

Smiling sweetly up at him, I asked, "Can... can I have your autograph?"

Probably wanting to grin, the hulking mass of metal and flesh replied, "Sure, kid! Where do you want it?"

Continuing to smile, I replied, "On the inside of my capelet would be fine!"

Producing a strange pen of some sort from some pocket in his armor, he proceeded to sign his name in an easily concealable part of my capelet, where the black and the blue would mostly blend together. I would treasure my capelet for the rest of my unlife.

With that done, I wished him well, and we parted ways.


End file.
